


Dios De La Muerta (The Day of the Dead)

by thecookiemomma



Category: NCIS
Genre: Halloween Tibbs Extravaganza, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-31
Updated: 2011-10-31
Packaged: 2017-10-25 03:03:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/271029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecookiemomma/pseuds/thecookiemomma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abby hosts a party on Halloween, and it takes some drastic efforts to get a few things done.  Tibbs, McGiva if you want and /or  hold your head sideways just so, and squint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dios De La Muerta (The Day of the Dead)

# Dia De La Muerta – The Day of the Dead

 

 

Abby hopped up and down. “You guys. You guys. You guys. This is gonna be so awesome! We'll have a party. Timmy, you bring nachos. Ziva, you bring dessert. Tony, you're in charge of the drinks. I'm making enchiladas.”

 

“Need someone to bring somethin' green and leafy, Abs?” Gibbs looked up from his desk and gazed over his reading glasses. He had decided to go to the next one of these things that the team had.

 

“Bossman! You want to come to our 'Day of the Dead' celebration?” Abby bounced a little more, and Gibbs inwardly rolled his eyes. “Oh, wow. This'll really be great. Yeah, Gibbs. You bring some salad or something.”

 

 _Day of the Dead?_ This might not be the time to break his routine. But he'd already promised, so he was resigned. “Yeah, Abs. I'll bring some salad. Gimme some sort of idea about who likes what dressings. I'll bring a couple of the most popular.” 

 

They finished the workday, and headed home, Gibbs stopping by the grocery store to buy a couple bags of pre-made salad and dressing. He set them in the fridge, and thought about the party that night. They'd decided to have it over at Tony's apartment, because it was one of the biggest. He'd almost told them to change the venue, and have them all come over, but then realized he'd prefer to be able to escape if things got too … hinky. He relaxed for a bit, read the rest of the paper he hadn't gotten to that morning, and then grabbed the salad again, stepping out of the door and into the Challenger to head over to DiNozzo's apartment.

 

* * *

Tony was nervous. The Boss was coming. The _Boss_ was coming. He wasn't sure how it had happened, but it was happening. He looked through his wardrobe, deciding on a black button down shirt and a pair of decent jeans. He styled his hair, bouncing slightly, and grinned. He hoped this went well. It had the potential to go really well, and then again could blow up in all of their faces.

 

Predictably, Abby was the first to arrive. “These need to cook just a little more, Tony, so I'll stick them in your oven. It won't matter if it's just warming up, it just needs to melt the cheese, and they'll be good to go.” Tony wasn't sure where she'd learned to make enchiladas, but he'd had them once before, and they were absolutely wonderful. His Latino friends had told him they were pretty authentic, too.

 

“Alright, Abby. Sounds good. You know I love your enchiladas. They're so good.” He followed her into the kitchen and when she got the food into the oven, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her temple. “Thank you for bringing them.” He smiled, hoping his nervousness didn't show.

 

“Oh, Tony, it'll be okay. You'll see.” Tony was hugging her close, but that didn't stop him from noticing the mischievous glint in Abby's eye. Or worrying about it either.

 

Gibbs was next to arrive. “Brought the salad, DiNozzo. Where ya want it?” Tony jerked his head toward the counter, and set about finding a bowl for it.

 

“Welcome to my humble abode, Boss.” Tony stammered, gesturing grandly to his small living room. “There should be enough room for all of us.” He gave a nervous smile, and rocked back on his heels.

 

“Settle down, DiNozzo. Not at work. Don't have t' call me 'Boss.'” Gibbs set about putting the salad into the bowl Tony found for it, and then gazed at the fridge. “Ya got a beer?”

 

“Yeah, go ahead, help yourself.” Tony snorted. He'd bought a few different kinds beforehand, but when he'd heard that Gibbs was coming, he'd gone straight to the grocery store and bought a six-pack of the man's favorite brew. “Got some of your brand in there.”

 

“Noticed, Tony. Thanks.” Gibbs held up the bottle, and saluted him, then strode into the living room to claim the easy chair. Tony grabbed one of the same brand, then followed him out there, sitting on the couch.

 

The probies came just a little later; Tim had a huge tray full of nachos, and Ziva carried another. She also had a large white bag in her other hand. “Probie! Probette! Welcome to Casa de DiNozzo! Come in! Make yourself at home, though, McGeek, if you install any weird software on my computer, I'll call you at oh-dark-thirty to fix it.” He bounced back up from his seat and gestured to the kitchen. “Abby and Gibbs are already here, so that's all of us, right, Abby?”

 

“Yeah. I didn't have the heart to invite Ducky this year, and Jimmy was spending the evening with Breena and her family. I think they're taking her little cousins trick-or-treating.” She bustled around the kitchen. “What'd you bring us, Ziva?”

 

“I heard this was an appropriate dessert to go with Mexican food, so I thought I would make some. They turned out … quite well, I think.” The Israeli woman opened up the bag, and pulled out a sopapilla.

 

Tony grinned. “Oh, those do look good. I've got some honey...” He scrounged around in the fridge and pulled out a container shaped like a bear.

 

“Tony, that container is shaped like a bear. It contains honey?”

 

“Well, duh, Zee-vah.” Tony grinned, putting the bottle in the microwave. “Bears _eat_ honey.” 

 

“That is a little disturbing, Tony.” Ziva looked distastefully toward the microwave.

 

“It is, a little if you think too much about it.” He shrugged. They eventually all made it to the living room, drinks in hand.

 

“So, Abby, this is your show. What's going on?” Tony leaned back into the couch and waited for whatever harebrained scheme Abby had in mind.

 

* * *

Abby had waited all year for this. Halloween was her favorite holiday, or maybe it tied with Christmas. Either way, it was the perfect day to have a seance. So she invited her favorite team over, or more accurately, got them to gather in one place. She lit candles around the room, lowering the electric lights until there wasn't much light spilling from the candles. “Okay, guys,” she began. “History and myth show that tonight's the night when the supernatural is the closest to us. That's why the Spanish celebrate the Day of the Dead. They want to make sure to honor those who have passed on...” She continued telling a little of the history and customs around the day, and then smiled. “So.” She clapped her hands, then rubbed them together in front of her. “So. This is what we're going to do.” 

 

* * *

 _Great,_ Gibbs thought, frowning.  _Exactly what I need._ He sighed, running a hand across his face. This was going to go badly. He knew it. He sat back in his seat, nursing his beer quietly. He'd let the kids have their fun, but if it got too strange, he was gone. He didn't need any more reminders of the dead. He had enough of them as it was. It could go two ways. Abby could be severely disappointed, or she could be right, and they'd have the specters of the dead visiting them. He wasn't sure which would be worse. It was six, one half-dozen and the other. 

 

He sat there, listening through all of her history and customs speech, and when she started lighting candles and incense, he closed his eyes. It always took awhile for him to get used to strong smells like that. However, the scent turned unexpectedly into a softer, more familiar scent. Rosewater, some sweet confection or other and something unique. Something he hadn't smelled for nearly twenty years, and was afraid he'd never smell again. He opened his eyes, and the team was gone. In their place sat his wife. His first wife. Shannon.

 

“Shan.” He breathed, reaching out to try to touch her. She shook her head, and smiled at him. When he'd been near death, he had seen her and Kelly. She looked the same now, except a little more real. More corporeal. “Shan. Oh, God. So damn good to see you.”

 

“Hey, lover.” She grinned, that saucy, full of life smile that he could never resist. “I'm only here for a short while. And we've got some serious talking to do.”

 

“Do we ever.” Jethro grinned, his face lighting up with a happiness he'd not felt in a very long time. “My life is extremely boring now without you, Shannon.”

 

“It is not, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. You just aren't taking advantage of things like you ought.” Her eyes twinkled, remarkably like Abby's, and he shook his head.

 

“You're bringin' out the full name. I musta done something stupid.” He waited for her response.

 

He wasn't disappointed. She snorted. “Well, I have a list. But we don't have that long. There's one specific thing I want you to think hard about.” She snickered at something, like Jethro knew she did when she'd made an inadvertent pun. He didn't see what she could have found funny.

 

“Now, see, the thing about it is...” He sat back in his chair, lifted his beer to his mouth, and listened to his wife.

 

* * *

Tony loved the smell of incense, and when Abby lit it, he closed his eyes, transported back to his grandmother's kitchen. He opened his eyes to share the memory, and saw his Nonna standing in front of him.

 

“Antonio, what are you doing now? Daydreaming?” The old woman held a wooden spoon in her hand, and there was a pot of something on the stove. Likely some water for pasta or a pot of fresh sauce.

 

“I must be, Nonna. I can see you. Is that your red sauce?” He sniffed the air, and grinned. “It _is,_ isn't it?” 

 

“It is. You can't have any, unfortunately, but they can't stop you from smelling it.” She smiled wickedly. “Now. We have a few matters to discuss, Antonio. And you need some straightening out.”

 

* * *

Ziva sat on the couch, listening to the soft music Abby put on. It was very unlike the young lady. She looked over at Tony and then at Gibbs, noticing serene smiles on both faces. It was a very good thing, then. Maybe she'd close her eyes, too, and see what would happen. She slowly let her eyelids fall closed, and sighed. The music changed from the soft strains of violins and piano to the stirring music she heard each week at synagogue as a child. She smiled and opened her eyes. Tali sat in front of her, playing with Ziva's favorite childhood toy. The little doll was created by her Imma from an old dress and some straw. It wasn't much, but it was her favorite, because her Imma had made it shortly before she died. “Tali?” She leaned forward, eager to touch her sister. “It is really you?”

 

Tali moved out of her reach with a playful grin. “You cannot touch me, sister, but we can talk for the evening. It is really me. I need to speak with you, and this seemed the easiest way to do it. I was hoping the three of us would be able to converse, but he took the path of anger, and I cannot reach him anymore.”

 

Ziva understood this completely. In the end, Ari had acted completely in anger, and there was a huge gulf between those who had done that and those who had acted from a good heart, like her Tali. “I am in America now, Tali. Like we used to pretend. There are no bombs...” She paused, rephrasing. There  _were_ bombs, just not as many. “There are far fewer bombs, and it is a much larger country. Much safer.” She began regaling her sister with some of the more hilarious things she'd learned, and was surprised when her team featured in most of them. Even her hardass boss made an appearance or two. 

 

* * *

Tim sighed, listening to the music, smelling the incense, and staring straight ahead. He wasn't sure he should have come to this thing. This was so  _hinky_ and it was starting to creep him out. He couldn't look around, because the others were all smiling and laughing quietly. He shuddered, wondering what in the hell it would take to get his hard-as-nails boss to smile like  _that._ He drained the last of his coke, and stood to go into the kitchen to grab another. He opened the fridge, and after grabbing the last of that pack of coke, closed it again. He turned around to return to his seat and quietly wait out the rest of this weird experience, but when he did, he saw someone he hadn't seen in years. “Mom?” He stepped toward her, but she shook her head. “Mom. Mom.” He set his coke down, and leaned back against the fridge. 

 

“Tim. How are you, son?” Samantha McGee looked like she had before the cancer had attacked her. Tim drank in the sight of her.

 

“I'm alright, Mom. I'm working for NCIS. Working with the MCRT. I was able to pull Sarah's ass out of the fire once.” He grinned widely.

 

“I saw that, Timothy. You could have done things a bit more carefully, like talking to that boss of yours right away, but you did pretty damn well.” She seemed to be leaning against Tony's counter, and looked happy to see him.

 

He nodded. “I was just so worried, Momma, and I wasn't sure how he'd take it. If he'd bring her in and ...” He poured all his worries out to his mother, able to do so for the first time since her death. He'd never found anyone else who'd listen and comment just like she did, and he missed it. It made the ache in his chest lessen considerably. 

 

* * *

 

Abby watched as each of her team mates in turn closed their eyes and stepped into the realm of the dead. She watched Gibbs' eyes close, and a serene smile cross his face.  _Good._ She snickered into her hand, and then turned toward Tony when he sighed happily. She wondered who he had found to speak to, but apparently, it was someone he loved, because that easy grin was back. She'd not seen that in very long time. Ziva closed her eyes next, and she gave a small, playful smile that Abby only saw hints of when she was teasing the rest of her team. She hoped whoever she was speaking to would encourage her. When Tim stood up, she did too, intent on telling him to sit back down. However, when she entered the kitchen, he'd turned around from the fridge and had stopped. He had set his coke down unopened, and a smile warmed his face as well. He was seeing something she wasn't, so she was content. 

 

Having made sure all of her team was settling into their night, Abby returned to her seat on the floor, and closed her eyes, relaxing completely into that place. She'd been here before, and she had a pretty good idea who she'd see. “Hey, Daddy.” She signed her greeting and smiled at the man in front of her, and began to tell him all about what had happened since they last talked.

 

* * *

“I'm either dreamin', or drunk.” Jethro grumbled to himself, listening to Shannon's words. “You can't be serious, Shan. Think about all the complications. You saw how well it worked with Jen. There's a reason I made Rule 12.”

 

“ _Replaced_ Rule 12, you mean.” Shannon scolded. “Rule 12 _was_ 'Let love flourish.' I got that one from my Gran, Jethro, and she was never wrong.” She shook her finger in his direction, and he growled. 

 

“But he's male. And I don't know that he feels that way.” He sipped at his beer, and looked around the room. He couldn't see the man, but he knew, somehow, that he was still in the area. He had always been attuned to him ever since that day in Baltimore. It was just how it was.

 

“ _Bull-shit_ , Jethro. You know damn well how he feels. You have for years. _Years,_ Gibbs.” Jethro smiled. She had a tendency to revert to his last name when she was making a point. “And don't tell me that if he were female and not on your immediate team, you wouldn't have moved already. Don't you dare tell me that. Maybe even if only one of those were true. Female _or_ not a member of your immediate team. You'd have been all over him like a monkey up a banana tree.” 

 

“Yeah, you're right.” Jethro set his beer down, holding it between his legs, idly playing with the bottle cap in his hands. “Dunno how to break the status quo, though, Shan.”

 

“Yes, you do. Just do it. Invite him over tonight, or just don't leave here. I don't care which. Just don't let the man leave your sight until you've screwed him stupid.”

 

“ _Shannon!_ ” Jethro blinked and looked up shocked at her blunt wording. 

 

“What? You always have had a thick head, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, and you need things spelled right out for you.” She grinned at him, remembering their old joke. 

 

“Do not. In fact, I am a very good investigator. I'd be investigatin' you, if I could touch you.” His voice sounded so sad, and he realized that he was letting himself grieve.

 

“Good. Finally. Let yourself miss me, but for God's sake, Jethro, move on. Revert Rule 12 to the way it should be, and let yourself love that man.” Shannon looked so sad, and he ached with his whole being to take her in his arms and make it right. “He's just as hurt. And you know it. I want you to sit down after I leave, and make a list of all the times he's nearly gotten himself killed for you. _Then,_ write down all the times you've told him thank you. You'll see a pattern.” 

 

He winced. He didn't need to write a damn thing down. What he needed to do was fix this. And now. “Thank you Shannon. I miss you and Kells like a limb. But this helped a lot. I feel so fucking guilty for your deaths...”

 

“Was it your gun, Jethro?” She cut off his self-deprecating spiral before it could start. “Hmmm? Was it your shot? Did you even have a part in the whole thing? If it's anybody's fault here, it's mine. I could have kept my big mouth shut. I could have told Franks to shut his pie-hole when he asked for the testimony. But I didn't. Because it was _my duty_ to see that bastard behind bars. And I would have. But he didn't like it. That's what happened. And _none of it is your goddammed fault!!_ ” She was standing now, her face near enough his own that if she were real, he'd be wiping her spittle off his face before grabbing her and … 

 

“You're right, Shannon. I just – Kelly didn't want me to leave. And that was the last I'd seen of her. My mind keeps on this loop. If I hadn't left, maybe you wouldn't have seen that crime. Or I'd've seen it, and I could have investigated it or arrested the guy right there, and taken all the blame....”

 

“And be the one talkin' to me right now? I don't think so, Buster. I did okay when you were gone because you were damn good at making sure we had some sign you were still alive. But Jethro, if you had been the one killed, I'd be the one sitting there feeling like I could have done something. It goes both ways.” Shannon closed her eyes, the sadness in her expression a deep, palpable thing. She sighed. “You would not want that for me. So buck up, Marine, and start living again. And this time, make the right choice. Go after that man.”

 

“Yes ma'am!” He saluted her sharply, back straight, eyes forward. He smiled, and watched as she faded away.

 

“Love you, you incorrigible bastard.”

 

“Love you too, Shannon. Kiss Kelly for me.”

 

“Will do. You remember....”

“I do. I will.” And she was gone.

 

* * *

Ziva was laughing so hard there were tears running down her face. “I did not know that was what he meant, Tali. I really did not.” She leaned back in her seat, and sighed. “I have enjoyed speaking with you. I wish you were around with me to see all the wonderful things in America. And you are the only one able to keep me on the straight and skinny.” 

 

“Straight and narrow, Ziva, and no, sister, I am not. Your team does a very good job of this when you let them. Open up your heart and let your team help you, sister mine. They _have your six_ ,” Tali giggled at the strange idiom, even more so now that Ziva had explained it, “and you have theirs. Make a family with them. It is what we humans do. When our own families fail us, we find new ones. Sometimes that works, and sometimes it doesn't. Often, we must make and remake until we find the family that fits us for this time. And then, it doesn't remain effective, so it falls apart, and we must complete the process all over again. You need to begin the process. Spend time with each of your teammates, Ziva, and let yourself appreciate them.” Tali smiled, as though she'd just discovered the secret of the universe.

 

“I shall. It will not be the easiest thing that I have done, but if it is too easy, it is not of high value.” Ziva grinned again, wishing she could hold her sister close, tousle her hair. “Perhaps it is best, Tali, that I cannot touch you. I should be tempted to introduce you to this thing that Tony has shown me. It is called a 'noogie.'” She chuckled, and Tali giggled in return.

 

“I love you, my sister. Be well. Shalom.”

 

“Shalom, my precious one. I shall miss you.”

 

“Not too much now. You have a new family to take care of.”

 

“You are right. I do.” Tali faded, and Ziva opened her eyes.

 

* * *

Tim laughed, remembering the incident his mother was recounting.

 

“And then, you spilled the vinegar, so we had to start the whole process over. I was so glad it wasn't the other mixture. That would have bleached the carpet and made a huge mess. Your dad was pretty angry with me as it was. Said you were too small to do experiments. I explained to him that you were older than I was when dad did it with me, and that it wasn't dangerous, at least not to you. That chicken bone, now...” She grinned, and sighed. “Well, our time is up, and I still haven't gotten around to the main point. That sounds familiar, doesn't it, Thom?” She laughed openly at his surprise. “We hear things from time to time. That was too good to miss. I'm proud of you, kid, and you need to be proud of yourself. That's one thing. You can pull yourself up by your own bootstraps pretty damn well, but don't let it be the only way you survive. That gets awfully lonely.”

 

Tim nodded. “You said 'one thing?' What's the other?” He knew his mom was prone to rambling on when she got started talking about things. It was what had made him a good writer. He had picked up his mother's tendency to explain things over and over, and then refined it into a narrative style that people seemed to like.

 

“You remember that experiment with the candy?” Sam McGee gestured to a cupboard, probably where Tony kept his sweets. Tim kept it in mind for ammunition.

 

“Yeah. The one with the caramel and the lollipop. I was so sure the squishy one would break first.” Tim remembered. He had been very young.

 

“Well, there's a point there, son. The one that broke was more brittle. Now, your team's like that too. Some of them have soft, squishy centers, but most of them are pretty brittle. You keep watching over the ones who are squishy, and who's gonna catch the brittle ones when they shatter? Abby's a strong woman. If you knew what she'd been through – I mean really been through...” Tim's mom sighed.

 

“I know a little, I think.” Tim frowned, trying to draw inferences from what she'd said to him.

 

“Yeah. A little. But my point is that she bounces back pretty readily. She knows where to find her comfort, even if it's in strange places. 'Android Lust', I ask you...”

 

Tim felt something, something pushing him to finish the conversation. “Mom. The point?”

 

Sam laughed and nodded. “Right. Well, Ziva, she's like that lollipop. She'll shatter. She's been through a lot, and didn't break, but there are cracks all the way through. It'll be a tiny thing. A very tiny thing, Tim, and she'll shatter into a million pieces. Those boys are somewhere in between.”

 

“Tony and Gibbs?” He felt odd running their names together like that, but he did.

 

“Yeah. Gibbs is more the shatter kind, though he finds some relief in his boat and alcohol. Tony, though, he looks soft and chewy, but he gets no relief. No bounce-back. If he cooks too long, he'll either melt, burn, or shatter harder than even your little ninja.”

 

“Really? Tony?” Tim sounded incredulous, and figured his expression was just as disbelieving.

 

“Oh, yes, Timothy. Don't underestimate that man. He's been living undercover for years. Not just that mess with the lady director, either.” Tim winced as his mother mentioned the Frog clusterfuck.

 

“Yeah.” He could sometimes see _hints_ of something else buried deep within Tony, but hadn't had the chance to investigate them. 

 

“It's up to you to get them to think about it. Take the time to figure out what they do for fun. Take them out to do it. You've got all that money saved up, Tim. Use it for something other than collecting interest.” She sighed. “My time's running out, child. I love you.”

 

“Love you too, Momma.” He whispered the last. “Wish I could hug you.” He smiled sadly.

 

“I am hugging you with my mind.” Tim laughed as she quoted Abby.

 

“Me too, Mom, me too.” Tim watched as Samantha McGee faded away.

 

* * *

Abby sat on the floor cross-legged, signing with her father. “And then, he came back, and Daddy, Tony was so hurt and …”

 

Her father held up his hand, reaching it out as though he were going to set it on top of her flailing hands. He pulled back, frustrated by the limitations of their visit. “It's alright, Abby-bug.” He used the name-sign he'd given her when she was a tiny baby in his arms. “I saw the whole thing. It was kind of hinky.” He wiggled his fingers in front of himself, an odd mixture of 'CRAZY', 'WEIRD' and 'MAGIC'. It had worked for them for a sign for the strange, paranormal and odd for years and he saw no need to get more specific or technical. Not with his baby girl. “You weren't very nice to Tony then, though. Were you?”  


Abby frowned, considering her actions. “Oh, I never thought about it. I was just so hurt, and I wanted everything to stay the same.”

 

“Do you remember when we walked and found those flowers?” Jon Sciuto painted the memory with his hands, describing the day, remembering the smells, the sights, the funny man with the blue shirt …

 

“Yes!” Abby's sign was emphatic. She'd fallen silent, lapsing back into the habit of a lifetime, but her hands moved with more vigor. “I remember. I cried because the flowers were dying.”

 

“And what did I say?” He slowly sketched his signs, emphasizing the point.

 

“You said their time was up, and there'd be new flowers there next time we came. The old ones had to die to make room for the babies growing up behind them. It still made me sad, though.”

 

“And it will, cherished-one, because it will hurt. But if you don't allow them room to change and grow, they'll die anyway. And that will hurt worse, won't it?”

 

Abby nodded, tears running down her face. She flailed her hands angrily. “I hate this, Dad! I wish I could hug you! I need to hug you so much!”

 

“You know who you can get hugs from now, right?” Jon looked sad himself, but he knew this needed to be said, and time was running short. He wasn't going to be there much longer, and Abby needed to rely on her team. All of them.

 

“My team.” She kept the circle of 'TEAM' going until her fists were resting on her chest.

 

He nodded, all the assertion she needed. He framed the 'I love you' sign with both his hands, waving them in front of himself.

 

Abby did the same, watching her father disappear, tears running unchecked down her face, not obscuring the determination in her eyes.

 

* * *

“Bella, you're out of your head.” Tony gazed at his grandmother. “I love you dearly, Nonna, but you're completely out of your head on this one.”

 

“I am not, Antonio. Grandmothers know these things.” She lifted her eyebrows and looked at him pointedly, tapping her finger to the side of her nose.

 

“He doesn't think of me that way.” Tony shook his head. “I know I've been in love with him for years, but he doesn't think that way at all.”

 

Nonna made a tsk-ing sound, waving her wooden spoon. “Nonsense. You know he does. He checks out your ass all the time.”

 

“Nonna!” Tony blushed deeply.

 

“Well, he does!” She chuckled. “And Heaven knows he needs someone who understands him to keep him in line. She's not there to do it for him anymore.”

 

“I can't replace her, Nonna. She's always gonna have that spot in his heart.” Tony sighed. Here was the real crux of the matter. He wasn't going to be another stand-in.

 

“Nobody said a damn thing about _replacing_ her, Antonio.” She turned to stir the sauce, scraping the bottom to make sure it didn't burn. He had learned so much from her, cooking the very least. “You can take her role without taking her 'place.'” She wiped the spoon on a towel, then waved it at him again. “You are more intelligent than that. It is like your Director. No one can replace her, but Vance has taken her role. He will not do things the way she did them, but he does them all the same. Capice?” She waved the spoon threateningly, and Tony was glad she couldn't touch him. He'd have sore fingers about now.

 

“Yes, Nonna. I understand.” He sighed. “But how do I broach the subject? He's ...” Tony frowned, pausing, not sure what he was going to say.

 

“He's straight, a Marine, and you're not a redhead. That's what you were gonna say, wasn't it, piccolo?” Nonna smiled when he nodded. “Well, he is a Marine, and you're not a redhead. Those are true.”

 

“He's ...” Tony felt the hope rise in his heart.

 

“Si. He's interested in both. It's the heart that draws him, not the body shape.” She drew an hourglass figure with her hands.

 

Tony covered his face. “Nonna...”

 

“What? It's true?” She grinned at him again. “Now. If I don't get this sauce to the people who need it, it'll burn and they'll go hungry. Go on, Antonio. Go keep your mind and heart open, little one, and I'll be praying for you.”

 

“Pray to St. Jude, Nonna.” He grinned. This was certainly a desperate situation.

 

“Naaahhh. St. Valentine has been listening to me.” She grinned. “Love you, little one.” She made the motions as though she were kissing his cheeks, each in turn, and he repeated them. “Go on now.”

 

He sighed, his eyes wet with tears. “Yes, Nonna. Love you too. Go, feed whoever's hungry in heaven.” The idea boggled his mind, but whatever worked. He chuckled as his grandmother disappeared.

 

* * *

Jethro stretched, and gazed down at his beer. There was still some left, so he sipped at it slowly. The others were stirring. Ziva opened her eyes slowly, a contentment he'd never seen washing over her face. Their eyes met, and an understanding passed between them. They would talk, but it wouldn't be here. Not now. He smiled, gave her a short nod, and continued to look around. Tim stepped into the room, bringing a tray of the nachos and some paper plates. He noticed there was a quiet determination in his eyes. He caught another unspoken message and nodded again. They would talk, too.

 

Abby woke next, and she was crying, tears running down her face. Jethro pushed himself up from the chair and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “Rough, Abs?” 

 

“Mm-hmmm.” She nodded, her pigtail hitting him directly in the mouth. “I just ...” She pulled back out of his embrace, and he nodded at her flying hands. “Gibbs. Gibbs.” She used the sign name she'd given him, the G saluting. “I didn't know I'd hurt him so badly.” The nice thing about ASL was that it was a visual language, so when she was talking about someone nearby, everyone knew exactly who she was referring to. “I hurt Tony.” She tapped her heart with a T, a sign he'd not seen before. Usually, they used a D-smile.

 

“When?” His sign was slow, questioning, and the eyebrow scowl that came automatically with the question remained.

 

“When you left.” She slugged him again, like she did every time she mentioned him leaving for Mexico.”

 

“Ow, Abby.” He voiced his complaint, then returned to ASL. Apparently, she'd been talking to her dad. It was the only explanation for why she was having so much trouble with her second language. “We all did.” He included everyone in the room, making his 'WE' huge.

 

“Yes, and we need to fix it.” Her 'FIX' was insistent and sharp, her face lined with tears and determination.

 

“We'll fix it.” He doubled the sign for 'FIX' with the 'MATCH' sign. Fix it and make it work.

 

“We'd better.” She voiced this, and sighed. “I need to hug Tony, Gibbs. Like a lot.” Gibbs saw her gaze travel to Tony, and he followed with his own. The contentment and peace on his face were something to behold.

 

 _Damn, Shan. You were right._ His breath caught. “Hurry up, Abs, I've got to make a few things right myself.” He ran a hand over his face, the bracing cold from his beer bottle helping him to calm down some and harden his resolve. 

 

* * *

Tony woke up, a cheerful smile on his face, and a peace in his heart. He glanced around to see the team in similar states. Abby ran over to him, tears running down her face.

 

“Tony, Tony, Tony!!” She tapped her heart with a modified fist as she spoke his name. Tony assumed that was his special sign, or whatever, and stood up, reaching out to hug his friend.

 

“What's wrong, Abby?” Tony tightened his hug until he felt her relax a little.

 

“I hurt you. I'm sorry.” She sounded like she was on the verge of tears. “I was so thoughtless, and you were trying so hard, but you were doing all sorts of other things none of us knew about, and keeping us all together and still functioning, and I spat in your face about it. I shouldn't have done that, Tony. It was really mean, and awful, and Daddy says I should pay more attention to it, and let the flowers change, because the new ones are just as pretty or prettier...”

 

“Shh, shh, Bella.” Tony slipped back into the Italian – English mix he'd spoken to his grandmother in, and she chuckled at his words. “It's alright, cara. I understand. You'll do better next time.” He grinned down, kissing her cheeks like he would have done to his Nonna, and then let her go.

 

“There won't be a next time, but yeah.” Abby began, but Tony held up his hands.

 

“Oh, yes there will. Flowers always bloom, and always die. You know this, right?” He smiled, the expression turning a little sad as he attempted to soften the blow. “But as you say, a lot of times, the new flowers are just as good or better.”

 

“Right. Gotta remember that.” She made some weird motion with her hand around her nose, tapping first one side and then the other with her hand sort of shaped like a weird O. “Flowers.” She did the movement again, and Tony copied her, knowing this would be a reminder for her.

 

“Flowers.” He felt like Bambi, learning all the names of things. He snorted. “But I'm not calling you Thumper.” He snickered, and she did too, before slugging him in the arm. “Ouch, Abs!”

 

“Tony!” She laughed again, lightly, and moved to go get some food.

 

* * *

Tim moved over to Ziva and took a deep breath before speaking to her. “I – I uh, I wanted to talk to you for a minute, Ziva.” He chewed on his lip for just a second or two before realizing he was doing it. “I wanted to – um – offer that if you wanted to go do something with me,” he held up his hands to emphasize his point, “I mean as friends, I would really like to do that. I got a chance to talk to my mom and she suggested I have a little fun. I thought I'd do something with each member of the team, and, um, I thought I'd start with you. Would that be okay?”

 

“I think that would be very nice, McGee. What did you have in mind?” Ziva looked a little uncomfortable, but seemed to be pressing on. “I received similar advice from Tali.” They had all heard about her little sister. “She wants me to get to know all of you better.”

 

“I thought we could talk about that when we plan it.” Tim was feeling much better about the situation as he continued to talk. “Maybe we could go watch a marathon or something? I know you like to run. Have you ever run that long?”

 

“Not quite that long, but it might be fun to cheer on the runners. You are right, Tim.” His first name sounded a little weird coming from her lips, but he discovered he didn't mind all that much. “That sounds like an excellent idea.” She smiled, a small, contented smile, and Tim nodded.

 

“I'll look into it then, and email you the details. Or possibilities at least. We'll figure the rest out as we go along.” He moved into the kitchen to grab some food.

 

* * *

The team talked and laughed for another little while, each sharing a little of what they had seen. The messages weren't completely shared, of course, but everyone knew who the others had seen, and that the general point of the night had been for them to connect person-to-person, rather than merely as coworkers. McGee was the first to leave, citing a need to spend a little time at his typewriter. Gibbs could understand that need. Part of him wanted to scurry right off and spend the rest of the night dreaming of Shannon while drinking and sanding his boat. But he'd made a promise to her to start living and loving again, and that was exactly what he was going to do. 

 

Ziva left next, not needing to take anything home. Her sopapillas had gone over so well that she would've been carrying home an empty paper bag. She gave each of them a tentative hug before she left, the most tentative being the one she offered to him. Gibbs took the hug in the spirit it was given, pulling her closer and squeezing her for a moment before letting go. “You did good, Ziver,” he whispered to her, and was pleased to see a slight flush cross her cheeks for a half a second.

 

“Thank you, Gibbs.” She replied, nodding just enough that she acknowledged the compliment, as broad as it was. After a couple more gentle jokes at Tony's expense, she left.

 

Abby wanted to stick around and help Tony clean up, and it was only after Tony repeatedly insisted that he would be okay, that the dishwasher was capable enough to wash things, and that Gibbs would help with the rest, that she finally decided she was okay to go spend a little time at the convent with the sisters. “There are a few of them that sign, and my brain is stuck in ASL mode. There's always someone awake, so if one of the signers isn't awake, I'll just crash there until one of them is. I've done it before, especially after talking to Daddy.” Her hands were still moving a little, signing here and there to underscore a point, or just to move. She grinned. “Bring the pan back tomorrow, Tony, or I won't be able to make you the delicious enchiladas again sometime.”

 

Tony nodded, kissing her temple again, and Gibbs hugged her, doing the same. “Love ya, Abs.” He gave her a quick squeeze, and let her go down to her roadster.

 

Finally, the two men were alone. Gibbs inhaled, ready to start the conversation Shannon had demanded he have with this man when Tony spoke up.

 

“Boss, you know I got to talk to my Nonna tonight.” Gibbs nodded, wondering where this was going. Tony was scrubbing the counter vigorously, his gaze on the washcloth. It was though he were avoiding looking at the older man.

 

“Yeah, Tony, I caught that.” Gibbs reinforced the nod that had gone unseen with the comment.

 

“Well, my Nonna decided to meddle a bit. You've got to understand something about Italian grandmothers, Gibbs. They have this thing for making sure their children and grandchildren are happy. If that means doing something completely off the wall, they'll do it, or encourage their kids to do it, because it makes them happy.”

 

“Hopefully that's all parents and grandparents, Tony.” Gibbs had grabbed another beer, fully intending to stay in this apartment for a long time. Hours, if not the whole night. He took a long pull of the beer, and set it down. “You're sayin' she was pretty bold about it, though.”

 

“Right.” Tony was relieved that he understood. “She made a suggestion, and well, I don't know if it's true, Gibbs.”

 

“Mighta been the same suggestion Shan gave me, Tony. Did it have somethin' to do with us gettin' our heads outta our asses and …?” Gibbs found he didn't know how to continue that sentence.

 

“Yeah, mighta been.” Tony smiled a wry smile. “Who knew it would take some sort of paranormal experience for us to figure this out?” He snorted. “I mean, I've loved you for a long time, Jethro.” The sound of his name falling from Tony's lips, especially in that context, made Jethro's heart stir and his cock jump. 

 

“Yeah. Been a while for me, too. Didn't want to admit I loved a male coworker. Wouldn't be the first time, but ...” He shrugged. “Hard to change old habits.” He decided to change one of those now. “Rule Twelve is one I changed from Shannon's list. It had been, 'Let love flourish'. Her gran always said that. “Let love flourish like grapes on the vine, and keep out those little foxes.' Some reference to some Bible verse or somethin'.” Shannon had told him, but he hadn't remembered it exactly.

 

“Wow, that's a huge difference.” Gibbs snorted at Tony's understatement. “So, you're just going to go back to Shannon's rule, then?”

 

“Yeah, why the hell not, huh?” Gibbs felt a joy bubble up inside him that he thought was solely connected to living with Shannon. Marrying those other women had hurt him more than he realized, shaping his life in painful ways. He reached across the kitchen island, grabbing Tony's washcloth from his hand. He made short work of washing the counters down, throwing the bits of food into the trash, and rinsing out the cloth. He draped it over the side of the sink and then turned around. He gazed at Tony for a long moment, then waggled his eyebrows meaningfully. “Wanna let a little love flourish, Tony?”

 

“Oh, God, Boss, that's so cheesy. I can't believe you...” He cut Tony's stream of words off by affixing his mouth to his, tilting his head sideways and pouring all the joy and love in his heart into the kiss. He licked Tony's lips, seeking entrance with his tongue which Tony readily granted. He anchored himself by setting his hands on the counter on either side of Tony's hips, then slid them closer together as they kissed. Tony pulled back first, needing the break to inhale a deep breath of air, then he lowered his head again, cupped Jethro's cheeks with his hands, and returned to kissing him stupid.

 

Jethro's irreverent thought was,  _well, Shan, we're halfway there._

 

* * *

Tony reveled in the kiss, and lowered his hands to Jethro's chest. The older man hadn't replaced his jacket, like he had expected to be taking more off than putting on, and that made Tony laugh a little into the kiss.  _Of course, if Shannon told him it would happen, he believed her completely._ He began undoing the buttons on the man's polo shirt, then rucked it up out of his pants, moving his hands even lower to slide them underneath the shirt. He started to pull it off, then just as he pulled away to breathe again, he slid the shirt off Jethro's arms and head, exposing a chest lightly covered in graying chest hair. He lowered his head to the man's neck, worrying a spot below the collar line – just barely. He felt the need to mark his lover, and took the time doing so. 

 

Jethro groaned and moved to start undoing the buttons on Tony's shirt. Tony was glad he'd opted for the black shirt, because the buttons were sewn on a little more firmly. He liked the shirt, and really didn't want to have to repair it after he took it off – or more properly, it was taken off him. Jethro's dextrous hands made short work of his buttons and soon, the shirt was on the floor beside the polo.

 

“Bed.” Tony's voice was deep and rough, like the rasp of Gibbs' plane against that boat. “C'mon, Jethro. Bed's this way.” He tilted his head toward the hallway and pushed them both away from the sink.

 

The only verbal response Tony got was a gruff grunt, but the man followed him down the hall toward his bed. Tony reached down, undoing the button of his jeans, his eyes on his partner who was doing the same thing to his khaki chinos. Tony gulped as he freed his cock to the cold night air. Gibbs was gorgeous. His cut cock was huge. Tony's mouth watered, but he stopped, indecisive. Did he want to suck the man down, or did he want him to fuck him? He decided to ask. 

 

“Gibbs, you got a preference as to what we do? I can't decide if I want to suck you off or let you fuck me.” Tony shivered even saying the words.

 

“That the only choice?” Tony stopped short, his eyes jumping from Jethro's cock to his face. Jethro was removing his socks, letting his pants fall completely to the floor.

 

“No, obviously not, but I ...” Tony sighed. He'd been caught assuming again. Were they at work, Jethro would have cuffed him and lectured him on the dangers of assumptions. “Sorry, Jethro. Assumptions.” He rolled his eyes.

  
“Damn right, assumptions. Now. We can do both, if you wanna suck me off, and then fuck me. Been a really long time, but...” Jethro gave a half-shrug, moving toward the bed to stretch out on it in a languid pose.

 

“That sounds so good.” Tony's mouth began to water again. “Oh, Jethro. You're gonna love this.” He grinned widely, and finished removing all his clothes before moving to the end of the bed. He took a long, hungry look at the man on his bed, and then moved along Jethro's body, kissing as he went. “So good...” He whispered against the skin beside his knee. He repeated the kiss on the other leg, whispering more words of love and affection. He knew he was good at fellatio, but this was different. This was Jethro. This was the one he loved. He finally reached his groin, nipping extremely gently at the skin of his inner thigh, whispering again. He was lost past the point of realizing or remembering what he whispered against Jethro's skin, or where he kissed or nipped, but he knew the instant he licked up the side of his lover's cock. Jethro bucked wildly on the bed, and Tony sat up laughing. “Careful, you'll poke an eye out.”

Jethro growled, a deeper, more feral growl, and Tony just laughed again. He set his hands on Jethro's hips, keeping the man still while he licked up that gorgeous dick again. He played a little more, kissing a couple places, then just as he heard Gibbs inhale sharply to scold him, he swallowed him as far down as he could take him. Jethro's scold turned into a long, wordless groan. Tony licked and sucked, changing rhythms and positions from time to time. He allowed his teeth to very lightly graze the edge of Jethro's glans and listened as the groan changed to a near-scream. He chuckled softly, dick still inside his mouth, and began sucking him off in earnest, bobbing his head up and down to a quickening beat. It wasn't long after he got into a good groove that Jethro's body seized and arched a little. He sucked a couple more times, and swallowed as streams of semen pulsed down his throat. He groaned softly, continuing to move until he felt Gibbs' cock soften in his mouth. When he pulled away, he ran a hand across his face, licking the little bit that had leaked out off his hand. He slithered up Jethro's body, not giving him a moment to relax before taking his mouth in a long, deep kiss.

 

When he pulled away for breath again –  _Goddamn that plague_ – he took note of the satisfied smile on Gibbs' face. “Just you wait, Jethro.” He grinned widely, and reached into the nightstand. He fished around inside, pulling out the container of lube and a condom. The condom he quickly sheathed on his own hard dick, and threw the wrapper into the trash beside the bed. He squeezed the lube into his palm, moving it around to warm it up a bit. “Hike up, Boss.” He snorted at his slip. “I mean, Jethro.” 

 

Jethro was already moving when he corrected himself, so Tony coated his finger in the lube, and reached toward the man's ass. He coated the ring liberally before sliding the finger in. He played around a little, encouraging the man to relax the muscle. He leaned down to kiss Jethro's legs, then greased up his middle finger, adding it to the slowly loosening hole. He scissored and twisted, reaching and turning until –  _ah-hah!_ – there it was. He felt the little nub and pressed a little on it, almost able to see the stars floating around the other man's head. “You ready, Jet?” It took him a moment to notice that he'd shortened his lover's name, but didn't mention it again since Jethro didn't. “Gonna slide into you, and make you see more stars.” 

 

“Already lookin' at a whole damn galaxy, Tony.” Jethro growled. “Get a move on.” The growl was very familiar, or at least very close to one he heard in the bullpen when he'd been acting up. However, there was another layer to it: a deeper, more intense layer that Tony knew was just for him. He smiled happily, and gently rubbed the rest of the lube all over his cock. It made it pretty slick, but he figured that was a good thing.

 

“Here we go.” He slid in, pausing as he entered to let the man adjust before pushing further in. “So good.” Tony crooned his encouragement, losing the meaning of the words pretty quickly. He did know he threw out a couple 'love you's in the mix, but since they'd already acknowledged it, he didn't feel the need to explain or retract them. As he'd said, he'd felt that way for years. This was just the culmination of that. He finally got himself fully seated, and waited until he felt Jethro relax completely against the intrusion. “Ready?” When Jethro growled warningly, Tony responded, beginning an easy slide back and forth. He bent himself over, pulling Jet's ass up a little higher, trying to hit the best angle for them both. He wanted to kiss, but if that wouldn't work to get them both off, he'd do without for now. He knew he'd found it when Jethro started to shiver and groan. Having found the spot, he slammed into it over and over, hitting it most of the time. It felt so good. “Not gonna take that long, Jet. Not gonna be long before I'm coming inside you...” He continued to ramble, and Jet continued to groan. “So good, lover. So good...” He leaned over more, reaching down for a heady kiss, and kept his hips pistoning as he did. It was Nirvana. It was Heaven. He shuddered, the pleasure seeming to come from his soul, and with a couple more thrusts, he came. Gibbs' body seemed to appreciate the extra stimulation, because he clenched around Tony, though he didn't ejaculate again.

 

“Tony.” Gibbs' voice was rough, nearly gone with use. “C'mere.” Tony grinned and leaned down. Jethro spread his legs wider so that he could lay on his chest. Tony lay down, kissing him slowly and contentedly as his cock softened and slid out.

 

When he pulled away, he sighed happily. “Lemme clean us up – well, me up, at least,” he gave an insouciant grin, “and we'll sleep. You okay with sleepin' here, Boss?”

 

“Not 'Boss'. Not in bed. Don't mind 'Jet.' Not 'Boss.'” Jet was already half asleep. “And shaddup. Sleepin' here.” That answered his question, though not exactly how he wanted.

 

“Gotcha, Jet.” Tony grinned and moved to clean himself up, returning pretty quickly to the bed. He slid in beside his lover, and immediately molded himself to the man's side, soaking in the comfort of his touch.

 

Just before they drifted off, Tony thought he saw two women – his Nonna and a red-headed lady who looked vaguely famil...

 

“Jet, are you seein' this?” He gestured over to the corner where the women were standing there, beatific smiles on their faces. 

 

“Shan, you _perverted voyeur_.” Jethro grinned, and Tony took hope in the expression, claiming it for his own. 

 

“Nonna's not much better, is she?” Tony shook his head.

 

“Just makin' sure we're listenin', I'll bet. See?” Jet gestured to Tony, draped across his side. “Keepin' him. Now, go play with Kelly and let us sleep.” He chuckled, a sound that had his whole chest shaking, and sent rumbles through Tony's pleasantly sated body.

 

“Night, Nonna.” Tony waved, and the two women faded again.


End file.
